From the Twisted Life of Dan Ricco
by dutchy-hearts-slash
Summary: With a boyfriend like Isaac, and gay friends like Alec and Sam, is it any wonder that Dan's life is so twisted? No, I didn't think so. [SNITTERY] [FUTURE SPUTCHY] Please r'n'r!


_Well, here's the first in the 'From the Twisted Life of Dan Ricco' series. Aha, intersting to say the least. Thanks all who reviewed for 'My Angel'! Hope you enjoy this! _

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Isaac (Skittery) or Daniel (Snitch), they belong to Disney. **

I watch in part amusement, part concern as Isaac stalks past me for probably the hundredth time just this past hour that I've been here. Who knows how long he was before? And as to why… Hm.

"Hey Iz?" I call out, but all I get is a muffled 'mruf oo' from the other side of the apartment in return. Sighing, I cover my face with my hands as I slump lower in my seat. "Well, fine." I mutter, eyeing him as he storms back through the room. Leaning forward slightly, I peer down the hall to see Isaac do an about-face as he comes to the wall, turning to continue in the other direction. My eyes follow him back across the room, blinking as he slams the door behind him. _O**k**, a momentary break. Let's see how long **this** lasts…_

Sure enough, a minute or two later, the door slams back open and he stomps across the room, briefly acknowledging me with a look as I snicker slightly.

He reminds me of a lion sometimes, roaming his territory. Admittedly, a very _tiny_ one, but still… From the graceful, almost liquid way he moves to the flames in his beautiful moss green eyes when he's particularly peeved. Just the thought of him as a lion sends me into a laughing fit, though, at which he glares as he comes back through the room. He stops on the way back to the rest of the apartment, standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips and an annoyed look on his face.

"Something _funny_, Daniel?" He growls, and I go into another fit of laughter. I finally gasp for breath as he continues to glare.

"Sorry, sorry." His glare deepens. "Really, though, what's got you so worked up?" He gives an exasperated sigh, flopping down on the couch beside me.

"You know how summer's ending soon?" I nod. "And we have to go back to school?" I nod again slowly, my eyes narrowed slightly in confusion.

"And…?"

"And you know that Mrs. 'Wicked Witch of the West'-" I cut him off.

"Elphaba." He pauses, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Huh?" I roll my eyes.

"Don you not know anything? Elphaba is the W-cubed's real name."

"'W-cubed'?" I shoot him a look.

"Yes, now shut up." He snorts slightly, rolling his eyes in mild amusement.

"You're an idiot." I roll my eyes back.

"Once again, _yes_, but _shut up_ and _continue_." He just sits there, blinking, and looking slightly confused. "What?"

"How can I 'shut up' and 'continue'?" I blink also.

"By shutting your mouth and being quiet, and continuing the story about why we're gonna need new carpet." He looks slightly more confused.

"Wha…? No, never mind. Let me rephrase my question. How could I continue the tale if I were to 'shut my mouth and be quiet'?" I pause, my mouth opened to reply, but then stopping as I try to register what he said. _What… oh!_ I felt my cheeks flame, and his face finally splits into a grin.

"I guess that kinda wouldn't work, would it?" He shakes his head, his grin widening by the second, as my cheeks grow redder. "Stupid." I hit my forehead against the arm of the couch. Jerking back with a yelp, my hand flies to my forehead as I stare at the protruding nail, the sharp point tinted slightly with my blood. Isaac instantly goes into mother hen/ nurse mode, reaching out to tug my hand away.

"Now, Danny, why'd you do _that_? Come here, lemme see- don't _touch_ it, you're hands aren't _sanitary_ and you _don't_ want an infection- oh, _that's_ gonna leave a mark." He mutters as he examines the stinging puncture, his eyes darting briefly toward the nail. "Hm, well, it's not rusty, but… come on, into the kitchen." He leads me to said room, sitting me down in one of the chairs before going over to the med cabinet.

"Let's see, hm… aha!" He pulls out a bottle, a few cotton swabs, a squeeze-tube, and a band-aid. Setting the items down on the table, he soaks one of the swabs with the fluid from the bottle. "Now, ah, this might sting a little, but…" He pressed the swab to my wound, and I cry out in surprise and pain. My eyes squeeze shut as I grip the edge of the table, a whimper flying from my mouth as Isaac gently wipes away what little blood is on my forehead, cooing soft words of soothing.

After a minute or two of pain, he lifts up my chin and turns my head back and forth slightly, examining my injury again. He lightly rubs something cool over it, then places the band-aid. I feel him kiss my forehead, and my eyes snap open to stare up at him as he settles on the table in front of me, sitting cross-legged with a small smile.

"All better." He murmurs, leaning down to kiss my forehead again, but I sit a little taller and catch his lips. My hands cup his cheeks of his go to my shoulders, supporting himself as the kiss deeps. Fireworks go off in my mind, and, despite the heat raging from every place we touch, I feel goose bumps peaking along my arms.

We break, gasping for breath, and just stare at each other. Without breaking our eye contact, he slides forward and down, straddling my lap as his arms wind around my neck, my own arms around his waist. Our lips meet again slowly, liquid fire shooting through my veins as he shifts closer, tilting my head for just the right angle. His hand brushes lightly through my hair as my fingers run over his back, still with one arm around his waist keeping him against me.

For the second time, we break, and our gazes lock again. We blink at each other for a minute, before he grins slightly.

"I don't remember what I was mad about any more." I laugh, pressing my mouth back to his.

I guess in one prospect that Isaac isn't like a lion. No lion could make out with another one that well with _tongue_. Hoe boy.

Aha.

_Such ends part 1. Please review! (Was this better, Miss Lute?) _


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